Saving Grace
by balletxshoes
Summary: This is an American Psycho fic. A young business woman with a bitter outlook on life starts work at Pierce and Pierce and comes into contact with Patrick Bateman. Rated M for strong language and disturbing content.


Disclaimer: I dont own American Psycho or Patrick Bateman, the only character I own is Felcity Burton.

**Felicity**

I don't quite know how to feel to be honest. I should be ecstatic but quite frankly I'm not. I'm not worried, either, which I probably also should be. I suppose I'm having one of my empty days. This is what I've been working for, for four years. A vice presidency at Pierce and Pierce. I started working at Wall Street when I graduated from University in England, I got offered a job straight away at one of the smaller firms. Since then I've been at four different firms, all of them slightly bigger than the last. I've noticed that I'm virtually left alone on account of the fact that I'm female, but I manage to get the very good accounts because I'm excellent at what I do.

Relationships I have no time for, many of the men who I know in my daily life fear me (although they would never admit this) because of the fact that I'm an attractive woman with intelligence and probably that I do my job a hell of a lot better than they do. Don't get me wrong, I have a hectic social life, I have to, to keep up appearances, but these people don't like me, I'm often the resident joke wherever I work, just because I'm a woman. Seriously. How bloody infantile is that?

Pierce and Pierce has always been the golden door of Wall Street for me though, I'd like to think that its because there are no women working there apart from the obvious exception of secretaries, but that isn't the real reason. Of course the money is a pretty damn good incentive; I'm planning on moving out of my apartment in exchange for a better one soon.

It's my first day at work today, of course I've been there before to set up my office and employ my new secretary (a woman called Paula, seems rather nice, just a usual secretary type, you know, she's a secretary, usually falls for her employer, has delusional fantasies about being the wife of a wall street wiz etc etc etc. I get the impression that she's like every other secretary that I've had in that she doesn't know what to make of me. She's disappointed that I'm not a man, yet she admires me immensely for what I've achieved. Pretty soon she'll be wondering where I get my hair dyed and asking me for fashion advice. They all do).

When I arrive there's the usual things I have to do; check my messages four times, adjust my desk so that it's facing the window as I like to see what is happening whilst I'm working. I have half an hour until my very first board meeting, which I'm rather confident about. I'm looking forward to making all their heads turn, they'll all be waiting on the new vice president, when I enter they'll probably mistake me for a new secretary looking for her employer or some dumb blonde wife of a client who they'll all try to hit on. I will then take great pleasure in telling them who I am.

Patrick Van Patten is on my right whilst Bryce is sat on my left; we are in the board meeting as its 10 am on a Monday morning. Van Patten is wearing a Jean Paul Gautier navy suit with a white plaid tie by Paul Smith. Bryce is wearing a black suit and red tie all by Hugo Boss, I am wearing black pants, white shirt, black suit jacket and blue tie all by Armani. Bryce is telling us some tale about a girl he picked up the night before. Van Patten is listening attentively whilst I'm listening skeptically. 

I scan the room to look for something interesting but there is nothing, as usual. I turn my attention back to Bryce and find that the conversation has taken an interesting turn.

"I'm not even kidding man," he says, breaking out into a grin.

"Seriously?" says Van Patten, chuckling.

"What?" I say impatiently.

"Last night I picked up this chick in Nells right, she wouldn't touch me unless she covered my skin in sorbet first." He says, breaking into laughter.

"Jesus Bryce, another Vasser girl, am I correct?"

"Right you are Bateman."

We high five and I scan the room for activity, there are still ten minutes before the board meeting. I listen as Van Patten starts to tell me about this new restaurant that's opened on 31st street. I've read about it in the Times who gave it five stars so I make a note of it in my filofax. I look up and notice a young woman walking into the room. She's a total hardbody though she looks somewhat different from other women in that I'll actually remember her. She's blonde, which is good, as I like blondes. They tend to be very quiet, mostly because they have nothing to say. They also give excellent head. Her hair is short which is also good as it means that I'll be able to tug on it as I force her mouth down towards my cock. She's wearing a black blazer with matching skirt by an English designer called Vivien Westwood, she also wears a white shirt by Laura Ashly and black Prada high heels. I feel myself go hard, I like high heels. This little hardbody is obviously a secretary, probably newly hired and is looking for her new boss. Either that or she's the dumb wife of some client. By the time she's been told she's walked into a board meeting, I'll have her number.

To my amusement she sits down and takes the seat opposite me, and quickly surveys the room before sitting back. I'm somewhat conflicted as part of me wants to talk to her, let her know she's in the wrong place as that way I'll get her number, but the other part of me wants to leave her alone, that way I'll see the look of embarrassment on her face when she realizes her stupidity.

My hard on gets the better of me and I smile at her, holding my arm out. "Hey I'm Pat Bateman," I say.

"Felicity Burton," she says shaking my hand. She has an English accent which I raise my eyebrows slightly at, its quite well pronounced which is a bit of a turn on, I'll get her number for sure now, she's English and blonde which would equal one dumb chick.

"I'm sorry Felicity," I say feigning concern, "but you're in the wrong place, you see this is a board meeting. Who is it you work for? I can tell you where his office is."

I wait for the look of pure terror and embarrassment on her face, but to my utter horror it doesn't come, instead the goddamned bitch raises her eyebrow at me and stifles a laugh. I swear if I didn't want to fuck her, her head would be in a fed ex express box back to England tomorrow morning.

"I'm not in the wrong place, you see I'm the new Vice President," she says, looking at us for some kind of reaction.

Bryce and Van Patton have stopped talking and are now staring speechless at this girl.

"I'm sorry? You, new vice president? Hah! This must be McDermott's new secretary playing some joke on us. I knew he was sore at you for saying that the Crayfish was too sweet at Barcidia Bateman," says Bryce in amusement.

"Bland, it was bland, not sweet," I say, raising my hand.

Felicity rolls her eyes at us which irritates me all the more. "Do I look like a secretary?" she says, crossing her gorgeous thighs, which causes her skirt to hitch up slightly.

"Well seeing as you're a chick, yeah you pretty much do," says Bryce, which earns him a high five from Van Patten.

I quickly look at her to catch her face contort in disappointment and embarrassment at this remark. I want to see her crumble. But to my surprise she merely sighs and turns her attention elsewhere as if she has heard this same remark time and time again.

I raise an eyebrow and quickly realize that this bitch is not lying. A woman, working as a VP, here, this is too good to be true and I must see it. I'll be watching every movement she makes, awaiting her downfall. My first move is to make sure that she accepts my offer of dinner which she will, they can never refuse.


End file.
